The Branding Iron - Page 112/142

Jasper kept another silence, more difficult, however, than his last.

His pallor was noticeable. "You say my--infidelity is common talk.

There has been a name used?"

"Your protégée from Wyoming--Jane West."

Jasper was on his feet, and Woodward too rose, jerkily holding up a

hand. "No excitement, please," he begged. "Let us conduct this

unfortunate interview like gentlemen, if possible."

Jasper laughed. "As you say--if possible. Why, man, it was Betty who

helped me bring Miss West to New York, it was Betty who helped me to

install her here, it was Betty who chose the furnishings for her

apartment, who helped her buy her clothes, who engaged her maid, who

gave her most of her training. This is the most preposterous, the most

filthy perversion of the truth. Betty must know it better than any one

else. Come, now, Woodward, there's something more in it than this?"

Jasper had himself in hand, but it was easy now to see the effort it

cost him. The veins of his forehead were swollen.

"I shall not discuss the matter with you. Betty has excellent

evidence, unimpeachable witnesses. There is no doubt in my mind, nor

in the minds of her lawyers, that she will win her suit and get her

divorce, her release. Of course, you will not contest--"

Jasper stopped in his pacing which had begun to take the curious,

circling, weaving form characteristic of him, and, standing now with

his head thrown back, he spoke sonorously.

"Do you imagine for one instant, Kane,--does Betty imagine for one

instant,--that I shall not contest?"

This changed the look of cold pleasure in Woodward's eyes, which grew

blank again. "Do you mean me to understand--Naturally, I took it for

granted that you would act as most gentlemen act under the

circumstances."

"Then you have taken too much for granted, you and Betty. Ten years

ago your sister gave herself to me. She is mine. I will not for a

whim, for a passion, for a temporary alienation, let her go. Neither

will I have my good name and the name of a good woman besmirched for

the sake of this impertinent desire for a release. I love my

wife"--his voice was especially Hebraic and especially abhorrent to

the other--"and as a husband I mean to keep her from the ruin this

divorce would mean to her--"

"Far from being her ruin, Morena, it would be the saving of her. Her

ruin was as nearly as possible brought about ten years ago, when

against the advice, against the wishes of every one who loved her, she

made her insane marriage with an underbred, commercial, and licentious

Jew. She was seventeen and you seized your opportunity."